


Be afraid, be very afraid

by MeanderingMotivation



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Guess Christophe's costume, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Otabek is a Saint, Protective Victor, RuPaul's Drag Race References, Sexual Humor, Thing - Freeform, Victor is dedicated to his role, Yuri makes a perfect Wednesday, Yuuri rocks in heels, Zero fucks given about gender roles, halloween party, the addams family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 05:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanderingMotivation/pseuds/MeanderingMotivation
Summary: Yuri has never celebrated Halloween before, but with a little harmless blackmail, he finds himself participating in a group costume effort with Yuuri and Viktor.OR“Yuri,” Viktor scolded, not appreciating the rudeness that was being extended to his fiancé. “That isn’t very polite. What do we say?”Yuri rolled his eyes in haughty disbelief, his expression practically screaming ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ “Now.” He said snappishly.There was a silence.And then…Both Yuuri and Viktor began chuckling together heartily, clearly amused heavily by something Yuri had said or done. The teen frowned in befuddlement. “What?” He quizzed, self-conscious.“Why are you laughing?”The pair only laughed harder.





	Be afraid, be very afraid

**Author's Note:**

> HALLOWEEN IS UPON US!!!! /＼ ^._.^ ／\
> 
> This is a hastily written one-shot I wrote after watching The Addams Family movies. It's kind of all over the place, and unedited. But I hope you like it regardless :)

 

* * *

 

“Out of all of the stupid costumes you had to choose, why did you settle on this idea?” Yuri is staring coldly at a beaming Viktor, who had just presented the Russian teen with his Halloween plans in a happily confident manner. “And you have the balls to assume I’d go along with it? You’re demented, old man.”

“Ah, but you owe me, Yurio. Or did you forget the favour I did for you?”

Yuri grimaced at the reminder, and inwardly cursed himself. “You’re really going to blackmail me? You _mudak (asshole)”_

“It’s not blackmail if we made an agreement, _kitti._ I take responsibility for breaking Yakov’s favourite vase, and you owe me a favour.”

Furtively, Yuri glanced around, hissing like the ridiculous nickname Viktor had given him. The last time he had visited Yakov’s home (with Viktor in tow, as he was currently rooming with him and the Japanese pig in their spacious apartment) he had accidentally knocked over one of Yakov’s hideous vases. Yakov would have been dismissive, if it hadn’t been a precious memento from his married years with his ex-wife. Yuri knocking it over (and hearing it shatter) had caused an alien sensation of fear to flow through him, and he’d almost felt prepared to _beg_ Viktor to take the fall for it. Fortunately, Viktor readily agreed, and comforted an uncharacteristically unsettled Yuri by ruffling his hair.

He refrained from teasing him about it, as well. Yuri had almost thought the man was…cool.

Not now though.

“Manipulative asshole.” Yuri snapped, knowing he had been backed into a corner. He may have been a lot of things, but he wasn’t the dishonest type to go back on his word. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only if you promise not to take photos!”

Viktor grinned at this, and made a crossing motion over his chest. “I promise.”

And he didn’t.

But Phichit was not beholden to that promise.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why am I being the girl child?” Yuri questioned, as Phichit applied some dark eyeliner under his icy blue eyes. For some reason he wasn’t dressing as the son, despite Viktor and Yuuri already having decided to go as the parents…

It was so grossly domestic it made Yuri feel sick.

 “Your personality reminds us of her.” Phichit explained, carefully putting away the eyeliner, and focusing his attention at tugging at Yuri’s hair. It had been just long enough to thread into two small plaits, much to his immense irritation.  “You’re both small, marginally unimpressed by the people around you, and capable of frightening people. Not to mention you both have a similar glower.” Phichit gave a small, superficial glare as he spoke, and Yuri rolled his eyes. He hadn’t had many interactions with the Thai skater in the past, and he was glad for it. Phichit’s enthusiasm for ‘cosplay’ and ‘selfies’ was infuriating.

It was no wonder he and that annoying Japanese pig were such good friends.

“I never watched the show, or the movies.” Yuri spoke, mostly to try and get Phichit to stop his fake-glaring. “I haven’t always understood English, and I don’t watch such childish nonsense.”

“But haven’t you seen the hilarious memes?” When Yuri shook his head in the negative, Phichit gasped dramatically. “Blasphemy! How can you have so little knowledge of such a wonderful creation! The Addams Family combines dark imagery with black humour, rendering it a unique and-“

Yuri wanted Phichit to stop his rambling. He spoke continuously, and it was giving the stoic Russian a headache. So, he tapped away at his phone, speaking in a deadpan when he had searched for the series/movies. “Googled it.” He clicked on the images, and his eyebrows shot up as he saw the characters. He’d known the costumes were bound to be dark and gloomy, but… “The American pig is going as the mother?” He asked for clarification.

“Yep! Yuuri’s dark hair will mesh perfectly with the costume I’ve designed!”

Yuri blinked in surprise at the passionate proclamation. “You made it yourself? He isn’t ordering it online or renting it from one of those costume stores?”

“Of course not! My OTP deserves better than that!”

Yuri scrolled in on the black dress the Morticia character was wearing. “The dress is…tight.”

“Well Yuuri has a fabulous figure!” Phichit replied cheerfully. “And his hips are a little wide for a man, so he’ll pull off looking a little curvaceous. And with my designs to emphasise his waist…”

“And Viktor will be Gomez?” Yuri squinted at the list of characters he had found. “Or Fester? Or Lurch? Or Cousin _Itt?_ Which is papa?”

Phichit cooed. “Aw! You sound so cute when you say ‘Papa’, Yurio!”

There was a pause, and Yuri grimaced. “That sounded _really_ creepy.”

“Nonsense! Don’t make something adorable weird!”

“This entire situation is weird.”

Phichit suddenly paused in pulling off the smock he had tied around Yuri’s neck. The blond had already begrudgingly dressed in his costume, and Phichit had been protecting it from the face-paint and makeup he had been applying. He drew back, chewing on his lower lip in contemplation.

Yuri rolled his eyes. Those who overthought things were irksome to him. _Everyone_ would be better off speaking their mind, and not holding back. Sure, it could cause conflict, but at least life would be _easier_ , in his juvenile opinion. ~~He wasn’t going to acknowledge that people speaking their mind all of the time would cause him to lapse into anger more frequently.~~ He was **_always_** right, and no one would have the guts to be rude to the ice tiger of Russia! 

“Yurio, I don’t think I asked you if you were comfortable with what you were wearing.”

_What?_

Yuri hadn’t expected that. Phichit had been so hasty for him to get into the outfit, that he hadn’t really had the chance to feel uncomfortable. And why would he be uncomfortable, anyhow? It wasn’t like Phichit _forced_ him into wearing something revealing. He let him dress in privacy, as well…

“What?” He repeated his inner thought, with considerable confusion.

Phichit shifted slightly on his feet. “Well, with what you’re wearing…” When Yuri stared at him uncomprehendingly, he went on more blatantly. “You’re wearing a dress, Yurio. Something that is considered feminine. Even if it is Halloween, there may still be bigoted people-“

_Oh._   

Yuri understood now. He scoffed. “People call me a fairy on, and off, the ice, Phichit. Sometimes it isn’t a compliment. Competing on a national scale means I get criticised. As a social media presence, I’m sure you understand that well.” He took a sip of the juice Phichit had placed before him some time ago. Yep. _Juice._ “I’ll be fine. I’ am a big boy, _da?_ ”

Phichit seemed relieved, but still a little doubtful. “But what if someone says something mean-“

“ _Mean?_ I am not a child, Phichit!”

“That isn’t what I implied. And you don’t need to be a child to be affected by-“

“You want to hear _mean?_ You should train under Yakov and his crazy ex-wife! Nothing anyone can say compares to what they’ve told me!”

“Yes, but it can be very different to hear those things from strangers-“

Fed up, Yuri stood from his seat, pointedly turning on his heel and stalking to the full-length mirror Phichit had kept him from. He’d wanted the blond to only see ‘the final product’, and now that the Thai male was done, Yuri felt no guilt in looking at his reflection. Unsurprisingly, the outfit suited him perfectly. He’d heard rumours about Phichit’s skill with a sewing machine…

His small, petite body seemed more androgynous in the plain black dress, the style neither girly nor masculine. It fell just below the knees and the white collar wasn’t frilly or stifling. The only thing Yuri didn’t particularly like were the Mary-Jane shoes, which made him feel a little like a child…

Asides from that…

The makeup and paint Phichit had applied to his face was flawless, and his plaited hair didn’t look cutesy with the little fake bones Phichit had decided to spontaneously thread through his strands. He looked pretty _cool_ , and Yuri liked looking cool. So much effort went into him looking pristine and angelic on the ice, that it felt freeing to wear something so dark and…spooky. Even when he wasn’t skating, Yakov was always pestering him to maintain a neat appearance, and anything too drastic usually resulted in chiding. His public image, the man always said, sounding rather like his ex-wife Lilia, was something _drastically_ important. It had yet to be compromised, unlike _Viktor’s._

~~Being engaged to a man wasn’t sweet and magical to ** _all_** Russians, and non-Russians, as well. ~~

~~But mostly the Russians.~~

~~None of them had a problem with it, but others…~~

But that wasn’t something Yuri wanted to dwell on. He didn’t have the time to be absorbed with Viktor’s haters, when he was still fighting his own. ~~That said if anyone tried badmouthing Viktor around him he’d tell them where to take their outdated opinion.~~

Yuri nodded. “Passable.”

By the way Phichit lit up and whooped, you would have thought Yuri had just given him the most amazing compliment in the universe, instead of a curt statement.

Phichit must have sensed his confusion, because he grinned a little sheepishly. “That’s high praise from you, Yurio. I’ve never heard you give a genuine compliment to anyone before. Well, except Otabek…” He trailed off a little mischievously, and Yuri willed himself not to blush. “You seem to get along well with him.”

Yuri shrugged, trying for flippant, but his red cheeks betrayed his attempt at casual indifference.  He didn’t like admitting that he cared about someone. It was embarrassing. And he had come to care for Otabek as a friend…

~~Does a friend make your heart thump wildly and your palms sweat?~~

But who _wouldn’t_ like Otabek? He was strong and quiet, not narcissistic, and his sober expression always managed to keep even Yuri’s most tenacious fans away…

Not to mention the way he’d made that nosy reporter go silent when he narrowed his eyes…

Intimidating, but nice enough. _Perfect._

~~Only Yuri would find someone who deters others away a perfect friend.~~

But it wasn’t just that. Otabek was sincere and genuine, in a way Yuri didn’t often observe in ice skaters close to his age. Or even _above_ his age. He also treated Yuri like an equal, instead of a rival/little kid like Viktor and Yuuri did…

He was a…adequate friend. That was all Yuri would openly admit to.

“He knows how to shut his mouth, unlike Viktor and that Japanese pig.”

“Speaking of the happy couple, we should go and find them.” Phichit elected to ignore the abrasive way Yuri spoke of his friends. Yuuri had assured him that the Russian teen’s insults no longer hurt him. They were just part of Yurio’s daily interactions. Phichit certainly wouldn’t have gotten away with being so disrespectful and coarse as a teen, but Yuri was…special in that regard, apparently.  “Christophe was helping them get ready.”

“The Swiss pervert?”

“Chris is very theatrical, as I’m sure you know.” Phichit said, as he headed for the door. He had been helping Yuri get ready in his own personal hotel room, as it was where he had all of the costumes stored. It had become like a costume shop in the last few months, but he didn’t mind. It was fun. “And he’s familiar with drag shows. He’s learnt how to apply makeup expertly, and Yuuri and Viktor’s faces will be a little more…elaborate than yours. They required his talents.”

“Drag show?” Yuri repeated, the words unfamiliar to him. He spoke English fluently, but he still sometimes became confused with certain phrases. “Is it a show where he drags his ass? You’d think he did enough of that on the ice…”

Phichit shook his head, with an endeared look. “No, _fæn (sweetie)._ Why don’t you look it up on Google when we get to Yuuri and Viktor’s room? I don’t think they’ll be ready yet…”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why is Yurio watching _RuPaul's Drag Race_ on his phone?”

“He’s exploring the world of drag. He didn’t know what it was.”

A gasp. “Now that is a travesty!”

“He didn’t know what the _Addams Family_ was.”

“That’s almost as bad!”

“Chris, not everyone watches drag shows, you queen.”

“That’s why you aren’t fabulous, Mila.”

Mila, who had been lounging on the couch in Viktor and Yuuri’s large apartment, huffed. Her skin was painted a sickly shade of green, and there was a string of fake eyeballs wrapped around her throat. Sara sat at her side, dressed similarly. Zombie brides, apparently, and a gorier variant, at that.

Yuri thought it was awesome, but he wouldn’t openly admit that. He was still scavenging his pride from when the pair had cooed over how ‘cute’ he was. He was spooky, **_not_** cute!

“You two should totally get married in those dresses.” After escorting Yurio back to Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment (which was totally pointless, Yuri wasn’t some baby who’d get lost) he had returned to his own hotel room to get changed into his own costume. Apparently it was some topical costume, but Yuri didn’t understand it. “You look awesome.”

“Thank you, Phichit.” Sara smiled.

“If you truly wanted to look scary Mila, you should have just come looking like you do in the mornings.” Yuri said snidely, pausing the video on his phone. Predictably, the woman flipped him off, although it was more good-humoured than usual.  

“Whatever you say, Wednesday.”

Yuri rolled his eyes haughtily. “What is taking Viktor and Yuuri so long?”

“I think they were having a quick talk.” Christophe shrugged, and the muscles in his shoulders rippled with the movement. He had opted for a more simplistic costume. Or at least Yuri _thought_ it was a costume. What kind of costume was a pair of tiny golden shorts anyway? And he’d oiled his body up, as well…

_Maybe I don’t want to know…_

“Well the party started fifteen minutes ago. They’re making us late.”

“Don’t worry, Yakov will not be present to scold you.” Sara reassured her girlfriend sweetly.

“ _Nyet_. But Georgi will think we’ve gone elsewhere and freak out. I’d hate to ruin that perfect eyeliner.”

Yuri didn’t know much about the party. He hadn’t even known any of these people were _invited._ And now that he thought about it, if his fellow Russians all knew, why hadn’t he been alerted until now? It didn’t make any sense. He frowned. “Mila-“ But before he could launch into an impromptu interrogation, he heard the clacking of heels, and a symphony of awed gasps. Rolling his eyes at the dramatics, he turned to spit out his most acidic greeting to the latecomers, but found himself barely holding back a gasp himself.

Admittedly, Viktor and Yuuri outclassed them all.

Their costumes were elaborate, and _perfectly_ tailored. Viktor’s pinstriped suit was filled in properly, and the dress Yuuri wore emphasised the shape of his body beautifully. Neither of them wore wigs, electing to have their natural hair styled in a manner more reminiscent of the characters. Viktor looked particularly striking with his hair slicked back, and Yuuri seemed more intense and ‘spooky’ with his dark hair straightened and accentuated with dark makeup and red lips…

And the heels, well…

Yuuri flushed at all of the attention, shifting uncomfortably, effectively breaking the astonished spell that had taken over them all. “I had to practice.” He explained, when he noticed Yuri’s eyes on the shoes. “I’ll probably trip over myself tonight…”

Tch. He’d ruined his aura of mystery with his own abashment.

Viktor smiled at Yuuri, whose height was matched with his own due to the shoes. He wrapped an arm around his waist and ducked him low in a woozily romantic manner, eyes sparkling like the maniac he was. “Don’t worry _moya lyubov (my love)_ , I will catch you.”

“Viktor…” Yuuri blinked up at him with an adoring gaze.

Yuri made a show of gagging noisily, and the pair immediately straightened, turning their gazes to him instead. They both smiled widely, evidently impressed with his appearance. On some level, Yuri felt a small amount of pride at that.

“You look amazing.” Yuuri said sincerely, clacking over to him. “Are you comfortable?”

“Phichit already asked me that.” Yuri said icily, but he softened when he realised Yuuri was being _concerned_ for him. That stupid Japanese pig. “I’m fine, Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded. “If you’re sure…”

“Of course he is sure.” Viktor chimed, joining the conversation. The others had started gathering their belongings, preparing to depart the apartment. Well, not Phichit, he was busy covertly fiddling with his phone. “Yuri is big boy, da?”

“You don’t need to put it like that, _dush_ _(douche)_.” Yuri spat, and the two older males laughed.

“You definitely suit your role, _kitti.”_

 “Can you _not_ call me that tonight? It’s embarrassing. And I’m not a child!”

“We don’t mean to be patronising, Yurio. Viktor just-“

“In that you are wrong.” Viktor cut in, with a smirk. “Tonight you are our child. We may as well play the role as best we can, _da Yura?_ Otherwise dressing up is pointless. Is that how you do the costumeplay in Japan, my beautiful port cutlet bowl?”

It’s testament to how often Viktor calls Yuuri such mortifying pet-names, when the man doesn’t even blush. “It’s called _cosplay_ Viktor, and yes. The cosplayers tend to get into character. We don’t have to do that th-“

But Viktor was already grabbing Yuuri’s hands and bringing them to his lips, kissing them in a fierce manner Yuri assumed was relevant to the character he was trying to play. “Does Yuri cause you terrible grief, my love?”

Yuuri blinked, mascara-thick eyelashes inadvertently batting. “Um…yes?”

Yuri felt a little guilty. He didn’t think Yuuri was _completely_ playing along. He _did_ usually cause the other male some grief…

“Do I cause you agony?”

“Sometimes you unsettle me in your passion...” Yuuri trailed off, and then winked. “I love it.”

Phichit clapped his hands heartily. “Bravo, you two! You get into character perfectly.”

“ _Too_ perfectly.” Yuri mumbled. “It’s disturbing.”

“As it should be! _The Addams Family_ isn’t supposed to be conventional.”

Then perhaps it made sense, in a way. Viktor and Yuuri were far from conventional, even in their domesticity. Yuri was the same…

They fit together as a family. Even a fake one.

“Now let’s get to the party!”

 

* * *

 

“You look cool.”

Yuri jolted in surprise, spinning around to face the source of the compliment. He relaxed considerably when he realised it was Otabek. He hadn’t been able to distinguish his baritone over the loud music and chattering of the party.

Said party was being held in a rented out venue, which was coated with Halloween decorations and catered with a sinful amount of sweets and snacks. There was a pool of water with bobbing apples (Yuri had started horribly when he’d seen JJ push his face into the depths, concerned the male was trying to drown himself) which was apparently part of some weird game, and a whole bar filled with alcohol for those overage…

Yuri had learned through casual eavesdropping that JJ had been the one to orchestrate this event with the assistance of his girlfriend. Apparently they hosted a Halloween party every year in Canada, and had decided to take the initiative to host one for JJ’s fellow competitors, since they were all currently in America…

Yuri was the youngest one here. It was evident his age was the reason he hadn’t been first invited. Viktor and Yuuri must have taken pity on him…

“Don’t sneak up on me bast-“ Yuri trailed off, eyes widening at the sight of the other teen. Otabek wasn’t dressed in any kind of silly costume. Rather, he was clothed in an outfit more reminiscent of the 50s. His hair was slicked back as well, and the leather jacket on his shoulders emphasised the broadness… Yuri snorted, to try and hide the current heat in his cheeks. “What the hell are you even wearing?”

“I don’t know.” Otabek replied tonelessly. “Phichit gave the clothes to me. I think the character I am meant to be portraying is from an American musical called _Geese_.”

“ _Geese_?” Yuri repeated irritably. “What the hell is **_Geese_**?”

Otabek shrugged, and Yuri inadvertently followed the action with his eyes. “I do not know. He said they would look good on me, and I didn’t argue. I’m surprised I was invited. I hardly know anyone here.”

Yuri had been around Otabek long enough to sense he was uncomfortable. He could see it in the sudden tenseness of his jaw. He reached out a hand and socked him gently on the arm. “That’s because you act all needlessly mysterious, moron. But who cares, anyhow. They’re all losers. Just hang out with me instead.” It’s a bossy statement, practically an order, but Otabek doesn’t become offended. He seldom becomes offended by Yuri, it’s one of the things the Russian teen likes so much about him. He just lets it slide off his unfairly muscular shoulders…

 “Are you okay, Yuri? Your face is flushed.”

“Let’s get some air.” Yuri decided, not wanting to acknowledge that statement. He grabbed Otabek’s sleeve, and dragged him outside, to where more of the partygoers were lingering, conversing more openly away from the loud music. He took in a greedy breath, willing his heartbeat to normalise and his cheeks to chill. Otabek waited patiently, and when Yuri was finished, he turned to him with a scowl. “This sucks.” He said fumingly. “Viktor and Yuuri dragged me here, and everyone keeps telling me how _cute_ I look.”

Otabek shrugged again. “That is nice of them, to say something so kind.”

“Kind?” Yuri parroted in disbelief. “No Otabek, _belittling._ I’m an ice tiger, not a kitten!”

“But Viktor calls you kitten…”

Yuri moaned in mortification. He was hoping Otabek hadn’t noticed that. “He treats me like I’m a little kid. It’s infuriating.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Otabek refuted calmly. “You’re lucky Yuri, to have both Katsuki and Nikiforov looking out for you. You should be nicer to them.”

“I thought you were on _my_ side.” Yuri loathes the feeling of betrayal that rises inside of him. Everyone was always lecturing him about his treatment of Viktor and Yuuri, he’d kind of hoped Otabek would be the exception…

“I am on your side.” Otabek said, a soft look in his eyes. “That’s why I’m telling you this. Instead of getting angry over how people are complimenting your costume, why don’t you devote yourself into enjoying tonight? This is a new experience for you, right? Savour it.” He placed a warm hand on Yuri’s shoulder, and the blond leaned into the hold. Otabek didn’t even blink at the action. “And after you’ve spent time with them, we can go Trick-or-Treating.”

Yuri wasn’t so culturally unaware that he didn’t recognise _that_ phrase. He also knew what it entailed. Kids went around begging for sweets at random people’s houses, to varying degrees of success. “Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“Not really. I saw many older teenagers trick-or-treating. If you’d rather not-“

“I’ll do it.” Yuri said hastily. “Anything to leave this lame party.”

_Anything to spend time with you alone. God. What kind of cliché is this?_

Otabek nodded firmly. “Very well. I’ll see you in an hour, Yuri.”

“ _Da_.”

 

* * *

 

“Viktor. Can you stop groping me? We’re at a party.”

Viktor smiled at him teasingly, and Yuuri was glad he had erred on the side of not pencilling in a fake moustache. That would have ruined his suave look, and made it ridiculous.  

Not that Viktor hadn’t been behaving ridiculous all night. And he hadn’t even had any vodka yet. Yuuri was in for a long night. He would have had a few glasses of champagne by now, if he wasn’t busy supervising Yuri. The blond teen wasn’t really old enough to be at a party like this, and he worried something might go wrong…

It was making him tense, to be honest. Maybe that was why Viktor was trying to make him laugh…

“I am not groping you, Yuuri.”

“Are you trying to say someone else’s hand is squeezing my ass?”

_“Da.”_

Yuuri glanced behind him in paranoia, and rolled his eyes at Viktor’s ensuing chuckle. Predictably, there was no one there. As if Viktor would just _let_ his fiancé be groped by a stranger. He’d even started snapping at Chris whenever he got handsy, and that was just part of the Swiss man’s affectionate and raunchy personality. He didn’t mean anything by it…

That said, if Chris ever laid his hands on Yuri in a suggestive manner, joking or otherwise, Yuuri would-

“It is _Thing._ ” Viktor chirped, and Yuuri squirmed when his hand squeezed tighter. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was making Yuuri feel a little hot in their position next to the smoke machine. He could feel Viktor’s palm through the fabric of the dress he was wearing, and the contours of it. “He just won’t stop.”

Yuuri knew he shouldn’t encourage Viktor, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “And everyone thinks _I’m_ the dorky one in our relationship…”

Viktor made a show of acting affronted. “I will not be blamed for _Thing’s_ antics.” He trailed his hand up Yuuri’s spine lightly, and the Japanese male chortled at the tickling sensation. “ _Thing!_ ” He gasped, when he drew his hand to Yuuri’s face, cupping his cheek. “How profane! Stop touching my Yuuri at once!” He sighed. “I’m afraid his intentions aren’t very good, Yuuri. He wants to wrap himself around you…”

Yuuri’s throat went dry. He opened his mouth to squeak out a response, but didn’t have the opportunity.

A small figure came stalking through the smoke, dressed in the outfit he and Viktor had requested Phichit create. He had a deadpan on his face, and his arms were crossed, unimpressed. “You two are weird.” He said, when he noticed the way Viktor was posturing himself. “And gross.” Then “I’m thirsty, get me a drink. The bar workers won’t serve me because I look underage.”

“You are underage.” Viktor pointed out, but he was beaming. Yuuri knew the Russian male had been hoping that Yuri would join them eventually. He’d told Yuuri he wanted Yurio to celebrate with them, as the younger boy had never experienced Halloween and needed a little levity in his life…

For all of their bickering, Viktor truly did care for Yurio. Yuuri might have been jealous, if he didn’t understand the nature of their relationship. Viktor had this compulsion to… _care_ for Yurio. Somewhat like a guardian. It was kind of cute, until they were at one another’s throats…

“What would you like to drink?” Yuuri cut in, before Yuri could shoot back some snarky response. “Milk? Juice? Soda?”

Yuri shook his head with a grimace. “Too many calories. Just water.”

“It’s Halloween, surely you can make an exception for tonight.” Yuuri frowned. Most of the other skaters treated themselves from time to time, but Yuri seemed the most rigorous about his diet, especially in their off seasons. “Have you gone bobbing for apples yet? JJ says it’s very fun…”

“Dunking my head in the same water everyone else’s face has been in is disgusting.” Yuri curled his nose. “It’s not like you or Viktor have done it, Katsuki.”

“Christophe didn’t want us to ruin his hard work.” Viktor sighed. “He didn’t even want to dunk his head, and _he_ isn’t wearing anything but those tiny golden shorts…”

“Is he supposed to be a stripper or something?”

“Come now Yura, give Chris a little more credit. His costume is creative in its simplicity.”

“Then what is he supposed to be?”

But Viktor ignored Yuri’s question, instead choosing to tug on one of his plaits. The blond batted at him rather ineffectively.

Yuuri sighed, and went to fetch Yurio his drink. There was a small queue at the bar area, but he was sure the two would still be quibbling when he got back…

 

* * *

 

They were.

Viktor was hunched on the floor cradling his crotch with watery blue eyes, and Yuri was smirking rather smugly, clearly glad to have finally won one of their altercations, even if it was by violence.

Yuuri frowned, and almost put his hands on his hips. _Almost._ He wasn’t a mother.

…And also he was holding a glass of cold water he didn’t want to slosh down his costume.

When Yurio spotted him, his eyes fell to the glass. He must have been parched. “Pass the water.” He ordered.

“Yuri,” Viktor scolded, not appreciating the rudeness that was being extended to his fiancé. “That isn’t very polite. What do we say?”

Yuri rolled his eyes in haughty disbelief, his expression practically screaming _‘are you fucking kidding me?’_ “ ** _Now.”_** He said snappishly.

There was a silence.

And then…

Both Yuuri and Viktor began chuckling together heartily, clearly amused heavily by something Yuri had said or done. The teen frowned in befuddlement. “What?” He quizzed, self-conscious. “Why are you laughing?”

The pair only laughed harder.

 

* * *

 

 

“Trick-or-treating?” Viktor said, in a scandalised tone. 

Yuri and Otabek nodded together solemnly.

Yuuri hid a small grin behind his hand. It was amusing to see Viktor behave so protectively when Otabek was around. Ever since Yurio and he had become friends, the Russian male had been watching the pair like a hawk. It was a little embarrassing to watch.

“Together? Alone?”

“ _Da_.” Yuri confirmed. “And you and Yuuri can go back to being gross and disgusting together _without_ me around.” He’d spent the last few hours with the pair, being taken around to the various party games and being forced to participate like some five year old. It had been horrible.

~~It had been kind of nice, actually. He didn’t often get to act his age, and no one seemed to be judging him for it, least of all Yuuri and Viktor.~~

Viktor smiled, but it wasn’t his normal pleasant one. It was tight, and somewhat menacing. “If you wanted to go trick-or-treating _kitti, **Mama**_ and **_Papa_** could have taken you…” He says the two titles with a deliberate sweetness, and Yuuri stomped on his toe with his heel.

Unfortunately, the damage is done. Yuri looks like he’s ready to explode, cheeks flushed and eyes narrowed in a mixture of indignation and anger. He loathes when Viktor deliberately embarrasses him, although Viktor seems to delight in it.

Either way, if Yuuri didn’t stop the oncoming fit of fury, the party was bound to go downhill fast. For _all_ of them. Yurio’s temper wasn’t something that could be contained to one part of a room. “Stop being silly, Viktor.” Yuuri keeps his voice deliberately light, even as he elbows him in the side for good measure. “If Yurio wants to spend time with his friend, he can. It’s Halloween, after all. He should be having fun.”

“We were having fun.” Viktor insisted mulishly. “All _three_ of us.”

Otabek didn’t even flinch. He just maintained his apathetic expression.

Yuri seemed relieved at that.

Yuuri whispered into Viktor’s ear. He didn’t even have to lean upwards, as the heels kept them on equal footing. _“We can have fun together.”_ He said in a hush. _“Me, you, and **Thing.”**_

“Which thing?” Viktor whispered back. “The one attached to my wrist? Or the one in my trousers?”

“Both.” Yuuri inched out a tongue to trace the shell of Viktor’s ear, and the man shuddered at the sensation.

“Fuck this, I’m gone.” Yuri said decisively, face twisted as he watched the display. “C’mon, Bekka.” He grabbed Otabek’s hand, and before Victor could emerge from Yuuri’s distraction, he was practically _running_ from the building. “I need mind bleach.” He huffed, when he deemed them far enough away from Viktor and Yuuri. “Watching them like that is s _cary.”_

“Some would say your glower is scarier.” Otabek said, reaching out a hand to smooth out Yuri’s scowling face. His palm was warm, and Yuri sighed. “Should I be afraid?”

Yuri couldn’t help a small smirk from falling across his lips. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

And thus commenced the rest of their night.

~~Most of the night was documented by Phichit on Instagram. Not that Yuri looked at the photos or anything. And he ** _definitely_** didn’t save any.~~

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ...Yeah so this is really sloppy, and the ending is really abrupt. Lol. I didn't really have any direction to take this in, so...
> 
> For some reason I really liked the idea of Viktor, Yuuri and Yurio cosplaying as The Addams Family, and I think Otabek would be funny as someone cheesy from Grease.
> 
> Kudos to anyone who can figure out the inspiration for Christophe's costume. If you can't, here's a pretty massive hint: 'The Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head...'
> 
> Anywho, I hope you derived some form of pleasure from reading this disaster. (Please) tell me what you think if you'd like. 
> 
> AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!! ／/＼｡｡／\＼


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